


Cockroach Vignette #3: Just A Little Hole

by BigSciencyBrain



Series: Refuge [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Implied Relationships, M/M, No idea where I'm going from here, Thor 2 kind of broke me, Thor: The Dark World Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-08
Updated: 2013-11-08
Packaged: 2017-12-31 22:00:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1036853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BigSciencyBrain/pseuds/BigSciencyBrain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spoilers!  Do not read if you haven't seen Thor: The Dark World.  Or if you aren't already spoiled.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cockroach Vignette #3: Just A Little Hole

_Steve had noticed the shop while he and Loki were walking._

_It seemed quieter than others, with comparatively demure signs and a tasteful window display. The quietness of it was one of the reasons he felt comfortable enough returning later, though he still had to brace himself before he reached for the door handle._

_He didn’t think he’d ever get used to the brazen sexuality of the modern world. It wasn’t offensive; when he thought about it, he figured it was probably a good thing, but when he came face to face with it on the streets or in the media, he couldn’t help feeling shocked. The bell jingled overhead and even that was a comfortingly old-fashioned touch. That’s as far as the old fashioned went though. He’d barely started down the first aisle before he felt like his eyes were about to fall out of his head and half of him wanted to turn and run._

_“Can I help you find anything?” the salesgirl asked politely. She was restocking one of the shelves. He was a little surprised to see a woman working in the store, but the tattoos and the facial piercings placed her firmly in the modern world, not his world._

_“I…I don’t know.” His face flushed. He couldn’t figure out where to look, everywhere seemed to be one more thing that he either didn’t know what was at all or he knew and couldn’t imagine that someone would want one._

_“First time in a sex shop?” She smiled at him, her lip piercings glinting._

_“First time for a lot of things lately.”_

_“Are you shopping for you or for a partner?”_

_He wasn’t sure how to answer that. “Both?”_

_“Alright. I might be able to make some recommendations.” She seemed to sincerely want to help him. “Is it a new thing? Relationship? Hot date?”_

_Steve took a deep breath. He’d come here with a purpose and he was going to see it through. “I just…well…I mean, I’m not…it’s not that I…” He stopped because he was stammering and making no sense at all. He took another breath. “My partner is…older and has a lot more experience than I do. I just wanted…I thought maybe…I wanted to do something.” He gave up again, frustrated at his inability to express how he was feeling._

_He couldn’t explain that he was stuck in a six-day time loop with a Norse God who was hundreds of years old and who, for some reason unfathomable to Steve, wanted to spend those six days with him. Loki had waited years worth of days for Steve to stop rejecting him and now, Steve couldn’t help but wonder if he was a disappointment. After all that waiting, Steve was still fumbling and inexperienced every time the time loop started over again. It only took the first kiss for Steve to know that Loki had kissed him thousands of times; he knew everything that drove Steve over the edge, knew Steve’s body as well, if not better, than he did. But Steve couldn’t reciprocate. He never remembered if there was anything particular that Loki wanted and he couldn’t help but question whether or not Loki was truly satisfied._

_“Can you tell me a little about your partner? What they’re like? I’m sure we can find something you’d both enjoy,” the salesgirl interrupted his thoughts, her voice calm and reassuring. She smiled again and he finally glanced down to read her nametag. Sara._

_“Um.” Steve ran his fingers through his hair. “Tall. Built like a swimmer, dark hair, green eyes.”_

_Sara laughed. “Not a description. I mean personality type stuff.”_

_“Oh.” He blushed furiously. That was an almost impossible answer. How was he supposed to describe Loki? “He’s very…he’s,” he stopped, cringing out of reflex when he realized that he’d said ‘he’ instead of ‘she’. He hadn’t intended to lie, but he still broke out in a cold sweat when he tried to vocalize that his lover was a man. His face was probably as red as the rings on his shield by now._

_“How long have you been out? And you don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to.”_

_“Out?”_

_“Openly gay.”_

_“I’m not.” He swallowed down the rest of his protest. “I’m not…out. It’s just him. No one else knows.”_

_She reached out and put her hand on his arm, patting him a couple times. “Alright, so you feel like you don’t know what you’re doing and you’re still pretty conflicted about your sexuality, but you care about the guy and you want him to be happy that he’s with you. Am I on the right track?”_

_Steve blinked at her. “Exactly.”_

_“Does he push you to do stuff that you’re not comfortable with?”_

_“No, no,” he said quickly. “He’s never asked for anything I wasn’t ready for. Never.”_

_“Good, good. Is he the kind of guy who goes to football games or the opera?”_

_“Opera.”_

_“CEO or surfer?”_

_He had to think about that one, mostly because he wasn’t quite sure what she meant. “CEO,” he said finally. That was probably the nicest way to equate Loki with being raised as a prince of Asgard and coming to Earth to conquer it. “Definitely CEO.”_

_“Top or bottom?”_

_He frowned. “I don’t know.” He wasn’t entirely sure what she meant but he could make a guess. “We haven’t done…that.”_

_“What works for you is about what works for you. If that’s not what you’re into-”_

_Steve shook his head, holding up a hand. “It’s not that. It’s…it’s...I just don’t know.” He didn’t think they’d done that before. In the hazy memories and feelings that were all he kept from loop to loop, it didn’t feel like something they’d done before. He tried to think if Loki had ever said anything or done anything to indicate that he wanted that kind of sex; the memories slipped away before he could see them clearly. But Loki was a prince, had been a King, and there was no masking how casual and comfortable Loki was with power. Loki knew power in a way that Steve could only imagine and, for Loki, power was a thrill. Conversations about Loki’s attempts to rule the Earth were only half-remembered, if that, but Steve remembered the hunger in Loki’s eyes; he craved power. “Top. I think.”_

_Sara eyed him thoughtfully, as though not entirely sure what to do with the crazy guy who’d come into her shop looking for something he couldn’t explain._

_“If I…if I wanted to…do that,” he continued falteringly. “What do I…how do I?”_

_“Are you sure you don’t want to bring him in here with you?”_

_“I was hoping to surprise him. You know.” He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, staring at the shelves without seeing their strange contents. “He always has to show me and I don’t think he minds teaching me, but I wanted…I wanted to show him that I’m,” he trailed off, thinking about his words before he continued. “That I’m ready. I think he’s waiting for me to be ready. For that.”_

_“Are you ready?”_

_He nodded slowly. “I think I’m ready to try. That’ll have to be good enough.”_

_She smiled again. “Okay, that, I can definitely help you with.” She motioned for him to follow and led him around the end of the aisle to the next. Kneeling down, she selected a couple of bottles from the bottom shelf and held them out one at a time. “I’d suggest something vanilla for now, just keep in the back of your mind that there’s a lot of variety out there. This is our best seller around here, so that’s probably your safest bet. Myself, I prefer this one, just feels better to me. You may try a few before you find the one you like.”_

_He took the bottles as she handed them to him, trying to read the labels carefully. It had never occurred to him that there would be that much variety in lubricants. His brain stuttered to a halt when she handed him her personal favorite; he stared at her. “How do you work in a place like this?” His words sounded clunky after he’d said them. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…that was wrong, I shouldn’t have said that.”_

_To his surprise, she laughed. “Imagine what it would feel like to not be tied up in knots about sex all the time. To have sex be a part of life that’s as normal and natural as breathing. From where I’m standing, it’s just as strange to be uncomfortable about it.”_

_He considered that. In answer, he selected one of the bottles and handed the rest back to her. “Has it always been that easy for you?”_

_“I got lucky. I wasn’t raised to hate sex or be afraid of it. Lots of people don’t have that.” She moved down the aisle, eying the array of condoms and making suggestions._

_He picked out a box, his face burning. The idea of not having his stomach churn at the thought of sex felt foreign to him. It had always tangled him up, even before the ice and before Loki turned everything he thought he believed about himself upside down. As he followed Sara to the cash register, his gaze fell on a pair of handcuffs and he paused._

_“Wrist cuffs are easier on the skin. They’re padded.” She reached around him and pulled a pair of black wrist cuffs from the shelf. “There’s leather too, if you like the feel of that better.”_

_The bands were almost two inches wide, with Velcro clasps and inner padding. He bit at his lower lip as he thought about it. Would Loki like that? Being stuck here on Earth where he was unknown and unable to break free from the time loop had been difficult for Loki to accept. If Steve could make him feel powerful, feel like he was in control, maybe he would enjoy that. He thought about the motel room and how the bed was constructed. The headboard was sturdy enough, with large, square posts. There wasn’t much space between the headboard and the wall though. He looked around quickly. “Do you have any rope?”_

_Sara grinned. “How much do you need?”_

_“A couple feet is all, just enough to make a loop.”_

_“I’ve got exactly what you need.” She found him a length of silken rope that would work perfectly and tucked everything into a plain brown bag._

_He’d almost stopped blushing by the time she slipped the receipt into the bag. “Thanks, Sara.”_

_“Go knock his socks off.” She winked. He was at the door, the bell jingling above him, when she called out. “Captain America?”_

_He froze, waiting._

_“Just so you know…you’ll always be my hero.”_

_He smiled and gave her a mock salute before he left the shop. His heart and his feet felt a little bit lighter as he walked back to the motorcycle._

Steve woke with a start, sitting upright in the bed. His head throbbed, but he stopped himself from reaching for the painkillers. They always seemed to dull his thoughts and make the dreams blurry and harder to remember. Sluggishly, he moved back until he could lean against the headboard. He sat in the darkness for almost an hour, only occasionally glancing toward the alarm clock beside the bed to see how much time had passed.

He let his fingers trail along one of the wooden posts of the headboard. That night hadn’t gone the way he’d thought it would. He’d thought that Loki would want to be in control, that he would be –

Different.

Closing his eyes, Steve leaned his head back. The memories – he was convinced that they were memories now – were scattered and unfocused. But he remembered that night. He remembered that Loki had been concerned for Steve, had taken care of him and made sure that he enjoyed it. He’d expected something else. He’d been willing to offer himself to Loki – to submit – and accept whatever Loki demanded, even if it came with a price and no matter how much it terrified him.

He remembered Loki gently wiping his skin clean, remembered his whisper that if Steve didn’t enjoy the act, then he wouldn’t ask for it. He couldn’t reconcile that Loki with the Loki he’d fought in Stuttgart. What if everything they knew about Loki was wrong?

On the bedside table, his cell phone buzzed. He frowned as he reached for it and tapped the screen. “Tony? It’s three in the morning.”

“And yet you’re awake,” Tony quipped. “Have you seen the news? London just about imploded. Guess who’s back?”

Steve felt as though his heart had leaped into his throat. “Were people killed? What happened?”

“Nothing Goldilocks couldn’t handle. Apparently. I’m a little wounded that he didn’t ask for help. Selfish, really, keeping all the fun for himself.”

Thor, Steve thought and closed his eyes, trying to regain control over his breathing again.

“Not that I mind. Had plenty of fun to last me awhile. Still trying to decide what to do with the pile of concrete in Malibu. Never give out your address on television, my friend. Pepper is never going to forgive me for that whole…thing.”

“Tony,” Steve interrupted, sensing that Tony was rambling because he was avoiding something. “Is there something you wanted to tell me?”

There was silence for a long moment. “Apparently Thor’s little brother went all noble in the end. Saved his brother and Doc Foster, died with honor, all that. Strange things happen all over the universe apparently.”

Steve went still.

“Steve? Hey, Cap?”

He forced his throat to move. “Yeah. I’m here. Did Thor…did Thor tell you that Loki…that he was…”

“He told Selvig and Selvig called Barton. Those two have been secret phone buddies or maybe they just go to the same post-Tesseract support group. Clint just wants the migraines to stop.”

Steve swallowed; his throat felt dry.

“But enough about that. The lovely Agent Romanoff tells me you ran off to San Francisco a few weeks ago to find yourself. How’s that going?”

Somehow, Tony’s rambling was irritating and comforting at the same time. Everything he’d said was still pinging around Steve’s mind as he tried to put the pieces together. He hadn’t known about London or Thor, he’d barely looked at a newspaper or watched a television in days.

“Steve?”

“I think I’m gay,” Steve blurted out. “And I need a favor.”

It was Tony’s turn to be silent for awhile. “You think? That's not really something you want to be unsure about.”

He sighed. “If you’re going to be a jerk about it.”

“I am not going to be a jerk. Well, not about that.” A clatter of metal in the background made Steve wonder if Tony was in his lab working on another suit. “Have you told anyone? Anyone else, I mean. Because I will be honored, and a little horrified, if I’m the first.”

Steve licked his lips. “You’re the only person on Earth who knows.” And who is still alive, he finished silently.

“Wow. Okay. That’s…wow. So you ran off to San Francisco because…well, the whole San Francisco part makes a lot more sense now, but really, New York is very open to alternative lifestyles these days. I’ve got a friend who is totally available. Great guy. Right here in New York. I’ll introduce you.”

“Tony. About that favor?”

“Name it.”

Steve fumbled over the words as he explained what he wanted to do. He was relieved when Tony agreed without asking too many questions or making lewd comments just to get a rise out of him. When he finally hung up the phone, an hour had passed and he knew that he wouldn’t be able to get any more sleep that night.

He left the bed and padded to the bathroom, wincing when he flipped on the lights. Water splashed in the sink. He watched it swirl around the drain for awhile, mesmerized by the flow of it.

The scepter. No one at SHIELD had made the connection, but it explained everything. The headaches, the lost memories, the déjà vu. Loki had used the scepter on Steve just as he had with Barton and Selvig, only he’d used it to take away Steve’s memories.

Why?

Steve filled up his hands with cold water and splashed it against his face, rubbing at his skin. It didn’t make sense. What had he known that was so important that Loki had to rip it out of his mind? Surely it couldn’t be that they’d been lovers; that was hardly a world-ending secret even if it would’ve upended Steve’s world.

He shut the faucet off. The only sounds were dripping water and his heart beating. He felt numb, beyond numb; he felt frozen. None of it made any sense and now, none of it mattered. Loki was dead.

“Steve.”

He shut his eyes tightly. Maybe Clint and Erik Selvig heard Loki’s voice in their heads as well; maybe it was another side effect of being touched by the Tesseract. He grabbed for a towel and dried his face. When he straightened and looked at the mirror, he saw Loki standing behind him.

“Ask Coulson,” Loki whispered.

Steve whirled around. There was no one behind him. He turned back to the mirror; it was empty of all but his own face. 

“What the hell,” he muttered, stalking back into the bedroom and grabbing his phone. He waited as it rang.

“This better be important, Rogers,” Nick Fury growled.

“I need to talk to Phil Coulson, sir.”

“Have you lost your mind? What am I supposed to do, hold a séance?”

“Just have him call me when he gets a chance. You’ve got my number.” Steve waited, holding his breath. He was going on a hunch and a hallucination and, if he was wrong, SHIELD would probably send him to psychiatric ward. At this point, he’d pack his own bag and go willingly.

Fury sighed. “That information required a Level 7 clearance, Rogers. How the hell did you find out?”

Steve sunk down on the bed, less shocked than he thought he should be that Fury hadn’t told them Coulson was still alive. “I just need to talk to him.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” There was a long pause. “Get yourself together, soldier.”

“I’m trying, sir.”

The call ended. 

Steve set the phone down and placed his hands, palms down, very deliberately on his legs. He wished there was a punching bag. He wanted to hit something.

Instead, he shoved off of the bed and dug through his duffel bag for a pair of jeans, yanking them on hard enough that he heard seams rip. He thought to grab the room key before he bolted out the door and down the stairs, barely paying attention to where he was going. In the garden, the early morning air was heavy with fog; he could smell the ocean and taste salt on the air. He ran for the steps that led down to the beach. They were slick with condensation and he slipped several times on the way down, scrambling for balance.

Cold sand sucked at his feet when he reached the beach. He kept going. Water slapped against his calves, quickly soaking through the denim. Each wave sucked and clawed at him, pulling him in and out as they rolled. Above him, the sky was awash with stars. He searched the sky, wondering if any of them were Asgard. 

He remembered Loki watching the stars, looking for home.

The waves washed up around him as he sunk to his knees, spraying over his chest and arms. He felt as though he would be ripped apart with the pain of it, pain he only barely understood.

“LOKI.” The scream sounded alien to his ears even as it tore free from his lips. Someone else’s pain, someone else’s heartache. He ached. Ached to the point that he thought he would break into pieces and be washed away with the tide. SHIELD would never find him then, all the pieces of him scattered at the bottom of the ocean.

“Loki,” he said again, his voice breaking. 

How could he grieve this much for someone he barely remembered?

**

Heimdall heard footsteps on the Bifrost. It reminded him of the way Thor had come to him night after night, asking after his mortal love.

“You sent for me,” Odin said.

“Thor has returned to Midgard,” Heimdall answered simply.

“I know. Was there something more?”

Heimdall hesitated. It was so small a thing. “A mortal. Calling Loki’s name.”

“Who is this mortal?”

“The one known as Captain America.” Heimdall turned back to look, but Odin’s face was as inscrutable as always. “He grieves for Loki, my king. This, I do not understand. Loki was his enemy.”

Odin dismissed it with a curt wave, turning back toward the palace. “It is no matter. Mortals are fragile, their minds even more so.”

Heimdall watched Odin until he was only a spot against the gleaming city of Asgard. Finally, he turned his gaze back to the cosmos. There was something amiss in Asgard, he was certain of it, though he could neither see nor hear anything out of the ordinary. The mortal’s cry was an oddity that pricked at him, but it was not a threat to Asgard. The Allfather would need to rest soon and return to the Odinsleep to regain his energy. Perhaps this new peace among the Nine Realms would last long enough for the Allfather to recover from all that had happened and to grieve for his Queen. 

There was little enough grief for Loki’s death, he thought, and one mortal’s mourning could not do any harm.


End file.
